A Very Cahill Christmas
by Ameila Cahill
Summary: A detailed account of what really happened at Grace's annual Christmas Ball and other stories
1. Christmas at Grace's Mansion

**A/n: Okay so even though I'm still in the process of writing Beauty and the Beast I felt like doing this one shot for the heck of it. It's amian (Obviously). So we have Amy and Ian doing the disclaimer today. **

**Ian: Ekta, what the bloody hell are we doing here? We were in the middle of something very fun you know…(*smirks at Amy*)**

**Amy: (*Turns red*) I-Ian we don't need to discuss that here! **

**Me: You know what? I don't even want to know. I beseech you to do the disclaimer please.**

**Ian: (*Sighs*) Ameila Cahill, (*since when are you a Cahill?*) A.K.A. Ekta does not own the 39 clues or the lovely Amy Cahill and the great Ian Kabra.**

**Me: Was that last bit really necessary? **

**Ian: Yes, yes it was.**

**Me: (*Sighs and claps twice*) On to the story please! **

_Three years before the Clue hunt_

_Christmas Eve_

Every square inch of Amy's body itched. She was wearing a green dress that Aunt Beatrice had bought for her. It seemed to be made of some unholy blend of rayon and velvet. Not only that, she was forced to wear the ensemble with high heels that Beatrice believed would make her look more "lady-like". She was just thankful for the fact that they were actually attending Grace's annual Christmas ball and that she was allowed to tag along Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice _with her. At least Beatrice hadn't forced her to wear stockings.

Aunt Beatrice rushed the children into the taxi as she observed Amy and Dan. Dan had eaten way too many Skittles and was already trying to stuff another packet down his throat. Amy was content with reading her book. Aunt Beatrice crinkled her nose, "And I wonder why your Grandmother only calls you once a year. Look at both of you pigs! No wonder I'm stuck with you." She grumbled. Amy ignored her; it was fruitless trying to argue with Beatrice. She looked out the window and saw Grace's mansion come into view. Her heart leapt as the driver entered the black ornate gates. She was here.

Ian Kabra was not one to travel commercial. _If only the private jet hadn't broke down. _He wrinkled his nose while inspecting the seats and disinfected it before seating himself and Natalie. Unfortunately, Mummy wasn't accompanying them on this trip to Boston and Ian was left to handle Natalie all by himself. He prayed that Boston was only a few miles away.

In an hour's time, an air-hostess with too much makeup made her way down the aisle. She reached Ian and Natalie's seat and smiled warmly.

"Would you like some nuts?" she asked sweetly

"I do fancy a scone. Do you have one with pomegranate jelly perhaps?" Natalie asked. Ian placed his hand on hers.

"Natalie." Ian said, trying to be as calm as possible.

"Ian please, I'm trying to talk" Natalie replied and turned back to the attendant.

"No, sweetie we don't, but would you like some cookies?" the air-hostess placed a bag of cookies in her lap.

"She's fine." Ian replied curtly and handed them back. This peasant was honestly trying his patience.

"But Iaaaan,I'm hungry!" Natalie whined.

"You can eat when we get to the mansion. If anything, Grace Cahill knows how to entertain. " Ian replied sternly.

Finally, the plane arrived in Boston and Ian was happy he'd be getting off this blasted flight. He descended down the staircase only to meet an average taxi standing at his disposal.

"Where's the limo?' Natalie asked, a little confused and annoyed.

"There must have been a mix-up Natalie, just bear with this peasant" Ian replied calmly.

The children handed their luggage to the over-whelmed taxi driver. They let themselves into the back seat and the driver shut the door behind them.

"42 Fairmount Street" Ian told the cab driver, who nodded and started the taxi.

"God, I hope we do get to the bloody mansion soon. We probably are meeting those Cahill orphans again, especially Amy….." Natalie jabbed Ian with her elbow.

"So? It's not like they're anything special to us, Natalie. "Ian commented

"Honestly Ian? You expect me to believe that? Look me in the eye and tell me you don't have the slightest bit of feelings for Amy Cahill." Natalie stared at Ian's handsome features.

Ian ignored her and looked out the window. The two Cahill orphans meant nothing to him. Very soon, they would be his competition in the Clue Hunt that Mummy and Daddy had been telling him about. Just as soon as that old bat, Grace was dead.

Grace's Mansion came into view, and Ian was almost half asleep. Jet lag was taking its toll on both of the Kabras. Ian looked down at Natalie who was asleep on his lap, and he stroked her hair. He smiled a little at the innocent girl who looked so much like their mother. Mummy and Daddy were always away travelling and she was all he had.

The taxi driver opened the door for the two Kabras and lifted their luggage graciously to the front door of the mansion. Ian swiftly walked to the door and knocked. A butler opened the door and greeted both the Kabras and took their coats.

They moved past the butler and into the Great Hall. Natalie's off-shoulder gold silk dress made her look like a tiny movie star. It complemented her coffee -coloured skin perfectly. She smoothed her dress before entering and her heels clicked on the marble floor. Ian followed suit in his tuxedo.

The mansion was decorated in great cheer and folly. There was a large Christmas tree located in the foyer and large wreaths were hung all around the Great Hall. There were waiters dashing back and forth with crab-cakes and eggnog. Ian spoke to a few of the visiting dignitaries and noticed Amy and Dan standing near the foyer. Dan was wearing a bow-tie with a tuxedo that concealed a ninja costume underneath. Ian wrinkled his nose. _Disgusting._

Amy shivered as they walked into the foyer. Not from the chill, at Grace's house it was always toasty warm but from the dizzying number of people around her- all the clamoring to have their coats taken by the butlers. Above the chorus of chatter and rushed requests for coat hangers, Amy could hear piano music drifting in the Great Hall.

An elegant woman walked past, an enormous green turban on her head. She was deep in conversation with a man wearing a kilt.

"Did you see that?" Dan nudged Amy in the ribs. "Think he's wearing anything underneath? Doesn't he feel cold?"

"Stop it" Amy chided "Just behave yourself for once, okay? We don't want to embarrass Grace"

Dan gave her a searching look that suddenly made him look older than ten. "You know Aunt Beatrice was just saying that to be mean right? That's not why Grace sent us to live with her."

"I know" Amy said, forcing a smile as she reached over to adjust the bow tie Aunt Beatrice had insisted he wear. But still, she couldn't help but wonder if Grace's refusal also had something to do with the fact that Amy and Dan didn't fit into her glamorous life, that they'd always be in the way.

Amy tried to ignore the sudden pain in her chest as she remembered their last Christmas with their parents. Her mother, Hope had taken Amy Christmas shopping on Newbury Street, and they'd gone for hot chocolate at a fancy hotel. Even though it had been six years since the fire, the wound was still so unbearably fresh.

"Where is Grace? Do you see her?" Dan asked impatiently. "I want to give her our present."

Amy was taller than her brother, but not by much. She had to stand on her tiptoes to see anything besides a sway of arms and legs.

"There you two are!" Amy spun around at the familiar voice. Grace was gliding her way towards them, the sea of guests parting automatically as their hostess walked by.

"Grace!" Dan shouted, and sped off to greet her, nearly knocking her down in the process. Amy briefly paused to apologize profusely before rushing to give her grandmother a hug.

"And how are you my darlings?" Grace asked amidst the hugs and laughter.

"We're doing great!" Amy said a little too enthusiastically. She didn't want Grace to think that she was nervous among the important guests.

Grace smiled "Well, I'm glad to hear it. Listen, I need to chat with the head of the Olympic Committee, so I'll see you in a bit."

Amy reached into her pocket and brought out the present she had wrapped so carefully. "We brought this for you."

"You two are the sweetest. Why don't you get some hot chocolate and enjoy the party? I'll meet you soon when I'm done." She kissed them both and swept off leaving Amy with the present still in her outstretched hand.

Amy sipped a cup of hot chocolate as she glanced around the Great Hall, which was now filled with Cahills from the world over, most of whom Amy and Dan had never met.

"Crab cake?" a waiter asked, extending a silver tray towards Dan and Amy.

"Don't mind if I do" Dan said, taking the entire tray from the waiter who stared at him confusedly before striding back to the kitchen.

"Dan" Amy said with her face red. "You're only supposed to take one! Not the whole tray!"

"I suppose that's what happens when you let orphans run amuck at a posh holiday party." A smooth male voice said from behind Amy.

Amy's heart plummeted into her stomach as she turned to see Ian and Natalie Kabra standing smirking at them. Ian was wearing a tux, looking even more handsome than last year. Amy could feel the butterflies in her stomach and the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Don't they feed you at the orphanage?" Natalie asked wrinkling her nose at Dan who shoved a crab cake into his mouth.

"We don't live at the orphanage" Dan said. Unfortunately, his mouth was full so bits of crab cake sprayed from his mouth as he spoke.

"Perhaps, the old bat hired them as waiters to pass out hors d'oeurves" Ian said "I imagine they could need the pocket money."

"She's our grandmother and you know it!" Dan said, his voice rising.

"Dan" Amy cut him off. "Lower your voice" Guests were looking their way to see what the commotion was. They were making a scene.

"Quite right, Daniel" Ian continued "Do as Mummy tells you."

"Oh wait," Natalie giggled beside her brother. That's right you don't have a mum. At least, not anymore"

Amy glared at the Kabras and tried to think of something that would put them in their place. But like always, she could only mutter "Go away"

"What's that?" Ian asked cupping his ear and leaning closer to Amy's face. She could smell clove on his designer suit. "I'm sorry, I don't speak peasant."

This sent Natalie into a new round of giggles and Amy could feel the heat rising up to her neck. All of a sudden the room felt very hot and crowded, and Amy had to take a deep breath to keep her head from swimming. This event was getting to be too much for her and she retreated to Grace's library leaving Dan alone in the Great Hall.

Ian was officially exhausted with the gala, but Natalie seemed to be all for it. He sighed, leaving Natalie off to mingle with the rich and famous and while he retreated to the library.

He didn't know why he kept coming back here.

The library smelled like rotting old people and mothballs and there was a fine layer of dust that covered every surface in the building. The sofas were soft and comfortable and plushy. Ian settled in his usual spot, a little booth tucked in between the conquests of Alexander the Great and Napoleon near the stained glass windows, but hidden in the shadow of the library's towering shelves. It was his favorite area, the only place where he could think in peace and of course quietly notice a certain red-haired girl sitting across the room.

From his little nook, he watches her face light up from afar and he would literally disable, disarm and take care of anyone who witnessed him right now, before admitting that tiny flicker of warmth that curled inside his heart at the sight of her beaming jade eyes.

Even in that ridiculous green dress (who wore velvet anymore?) with its childish Peter Pan collar, she looked just a touch better than mediocre. In his thirteen year old opinion, that was just about the highest regard Ian had ever bestowed upon anyone.

Ian shifted from his position in his nook and made his way towards Amy who was intently focused on reading _Pride And Prejudice_. He sat down beside her and tapped her shoulder.

"Ian! You scared me!" She exclaimed suddenly startled by his appearance.

"Sorry" he replied quickly.

"That's okay, I was just reading this book" she said softly.

Ian leaned over and looked at the pages of the book. He read alongside Amy who was blushing furiously. _What a strange girl_ Ian thought. Although, most females had this reaction towards him and it made conversation quite difficult.

Ian stopped and placed his hand on Amy's "Listen," he started "I truly apologize for what I said in the Great Hall, I speak on Natalie's behalf as well. That comment about your mother was rude and uncalled for."

Amy was a little shell shocked. _Ian Kabra apologizing? That's a first._

"It's okay, it's been six years since the fire and I should just move on. I still miss her a lot though." She confessed

Ian smiled at her gently "Well, at least you had a mother who cared about you. My parents travel so much, I wonder if they care about where we are or what we are doing. Natalie's all I have, and losing her would be like losing a part of me."

_It would be like losing Dan _Amy thought. She felt a pang of sympathy pass through her. Ian was usually quick with insults and retorts but sympathy and sorrow was something that he rarely showed.

Suddenly, Ian glanced up at the ceiling and noticed a certain plant hanging between them, mistletoe to be exact. He smirked and looked at Amy, who was still intently focused on her book. He tapped her shoulder.

"Amy."

"Yes?"

"Look above you."

Amy followed Ian's gaze and noticed the mistletoe between them, she blushed furiously.

"I-Ian we c-can't" Amy stammered.

"Why not? Its tradition Amy, or you'll get bad luck for the rest of the year. Do you really want that?" Ian questioned, with a smirk riding up his cheeks.

"N-No" Amy replied, still stammering and blushing extremely hard. After all, this was Ian Kabra they were talking about.

Ian leaned in slowly and pressed his lips to Amy's. He was trying to be as much of a gentleman as possible, not trying to work her lips too hard. Amy could feel butterflies fluttering in her stomach, trying to break free. He dug his fingers in her reddish-brown hair, which smelled of lavender. The kiss was soft, like the pitter-patter on rain on a windowsill.

Ian broke away slowly, and looked back at Amy who was still blushing profusely.

"Amy."

"Y-Yes?" She tried hard not to meet his gaze.

"Happy Christmas." He whispered and kissed her cheek as the clock struck twelve.

"Merry Christmas" Amy smiled and whispered back.

And for the first time, it truly was.

**A/n: Finally done! God, that took me forever to write! Anyways if you guys want me to write another one-shot leave a prompt for me in the reviews! Or you can PM me as well. **

**P.S. Has anyone read Countdown? If so, could anyone of you lovely people message me the scene where Amy is driving a car? Thanks again!**


	2. The Mission

**A/n: Dedicated to Angel Cahill 23, thanks for reviewing like always ****. Also, in recent light of Ian's relationship issues in Flashpoint (which broke my heart, not to mention my otp ****) I decided to write this fic.**

**PROMPT**: Amy and Ian are sent on a mission alone after Ian ends up with Cara.

"Why are we doing this again?"

"To save the world. Now Amy, be quiet or we'll both get caught."

"Don't you tell me to shut up!"

Amber eyes fiercely stare at green ones.

She squirms, trying to break free from the boy's gaze, only resulting in a scowl. She mentally sighs; this mission was not going to be easy.

"Do you _want _to get us killed?" Ian hisses.

"In case you haven't noticed Ian, I'm the leader of the Cahills and I know what I'm doing" she said in a calm voice.

"Is that so?" Ian raised an eyebrow. "Then pray do tell,where should we go?" He made a hand gestured as if to say _All yours._

"Well…..,umm…." Amy was suddenly interested in her shoelaces.

"That's what I thought" he smirked and walked straight down the corridor.

The two stare coldly at one another after that, their glares as frigid as ice-cold glacier water. Ian's dark eyes flash, but Amy's gaze does not waver. The pitch dark blankets them like a thick cover, but Amy can still see the menacing glint in her adversary's amber eyes. Her own jade-green ones flicker in response. Clothed in stealth suits of black, they all but blend into the night. It makes Amy feel silent and deadly. But as much as she hates to admit it, the camouflage is even more effective on Ian. With his dark skin, he is almost invisible, the glimmering yellow in his eyes the only sure sign of his presence.

_Thump._

Both pairs of eyes stare into the darkness, their confrontation momentarily forgotten. Ian's tall, black silhouette silently slips behind the marble statue with Amy's close behind. A beam of light pierces the black night and swivels across the arid room, illuminating all secrets cloaked in anonymity. The two figures slink back into the shadows and push themselves as close to the ground as possible. Amy holds her breath, adrenaline coursing through her body, and finds herself staring straight into Ian's cool, collected features. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she fears that it is loud enough to give their precarious hiding place away. Ian, on the other hand, looks undaunted, bored even, as the guard scours the gallery.

The sound of footsteps echoes in the almost empty room, and the beam of light grows fainter as its distance increases. Amy finally exhales, daring to breathe as signs of the man's presence slowly begin to dwindle. For a few more moments, they wait, lingering in ear-piercing silence until the footsteps have long faded away.

Ian glances at his watch. "It's time."

Amy gives an almost imperceptible nod and begins to rise from her position on the floor.

"Get down!" Ian hisses, yanking Amy back onto the floor.

"Ian!" Amy responds irritably, pulling her arm free of Ian's grasp.

Ian rolls his eyes. "I was only trying to protect you," he retorts. "And I'd love to never touch your arm ever again, but if you keep endangering our mission, mark my word, I will _pin_ you to a wall."

"My karate skills would stop you," Amy shoots back.

Ian snickers. "Good luck with that, love."

"And for the last time, it's _Amy_, not love! A-M-Y."

"Sure, whatever, _love_."

"Fine, then. If I'm love, then you're duck."

"That doesn't even make any sense."

"I don't care"

Ian stares. He opens his mouth, but obviously thinks better of it, and quickly shuts it again. He shakes his head. "Forget it."

Amy smirks triumphantly, but her victory is short-lived as Ian slips around the corner of the statue. Amy gazes up at the sparkling white figure that looms above and frowns. Its arms are missing, yet here it is, being glorified in a world-famous art museum, surrounded by guards with guns. People can be so weird.

She stands impatiently as she waits for Ian to return. This is ridiculous – the whole situation is. Breaking into a billion-dollar art gallery is one thing, but with _Ian_? That is an entirely different matter.

Ian slips around the corner, moving as stealthily as a snake, and motions for Amy to follow. He gives Amy a pointed glare and puts a finger to his lips before drawing a finger across his throat. Amy narrows her eyes and sticks out her tongue defiantly. Ian rolls his eyes and turns her back to Amy, taking a tentative step forward. They inch their way onward, one step at a time, Amy only millimeters from Ian's heels. He suddenly freezes, and Amy instantly smashes into him. Ian whirls around and looks at Amy, who is returning his venomous stare with one of her own. Their eyes hold a silent conversation.

_Watch where you're going!_

_It's not my fault! You stopped._

Ian grits his teeth, his handsome features darkening dangerously.

"What?" The word is out of Amy's mouth before she can stop it, before she can clamp a hand over her mouth.

Ian's eyes widen, and Amy can feel her heart thumping wildly.

All is silent.

They wait to ensure they have not been overheard for what seems like an eternity before finally daring to blink. Ian instantly shoots daggers at Amy and pulls his fingers across his lips, telling her to zip it up.

Amy rolls her eyes but reluctantly does the same, even pretending to throw away the key. A mischievous smile lights up Ian's face, and he winks at Amy.

_Thump._

The sound has come from behind them, and it is too close for comfort. Ian wastes no time. He grabs Amy's arm, ripping her out of her pose, and dives across the marble floor, ducking between statues as they go. They dash down hallways, between galleries, with Ian periodically checking his glowing watch for directions. Countless paintings they whiz by, ones Amy knows are just begging to be defaced. Elegant columns rise up around them, but only glimpses of this magnificent structure can be observed in their haste.

This is no pleasure trip.

Amy's feet thud softly against the polished floor, but every step feels like a gunshot going off, screaming their intentions to the sky. She glances at Ian's face, which portrays a look of pure determination. It reveals the confidence of someone who has prepared for this moment all of their life. Unlike her. Amy swallows hard and pushes back the fear that is gnawing at her mind. He has trained for this. His entire life, he has prepared for this moment. She sneaks another glance at Ian's face, noting his calm assurance in stark contrast with Amy's own. Maybe a lifetime wasn't enough.

At last, as they arrive in front of a small side door, they come to an abrupt halt. Ian steps forward, and Amy watches him with curiosity. Ian flicks his watch arm to get a better view and presses several buttons. He directs his attention to the door and studies it, analyzing its security system. He reaches out, swipes an access card, one they have stolen from the guard on their way in, and waits for the door to slide open.

It doesn't.

Ian frowns and swipes it again, but nothing happens. He glances at the card and flips it over in his hand, running his thumb along its edge.

"It's a fake," he whispers. "Our guard friend is a phony."

A shiver runs down Amy's spine, and she glances nervously at Ian. They exchange a knowing glance. They are being watched. By _him._

"What do we do now?" Amy asks softly.

"Just give me a minute," Ian responds. He slips a small pin out of his pocket and inserts it into the slot. He jiggles it for a few seconds, his brow furrowed in concentration, before a green light flickers and the door beeps open.

Amy shoots Ian a look of surprise, one that borders on impressed. Ian flashes Amy a sly grin. "After you."

Amy steps forward and cautiously pushes the door open. He peeks inside, and Ian does the same.

This is the room they have come for. A small safe sits in the back corner, but everything else is bare, except for a small table and chair sitting in the corner with a half-empty water bottle balanced precariously on top.

Amy takes a tentative step forward, but Ian instantly pulls him back.

"Not yet," he murmurs. "It could be a trap." He pushes past Amy. "I'll go first."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

Ian steps forward, pulling Amy aside, and carefully makes his way across the room.

"Ahem."

Ian glances up at Amy, who is waiting impatiently by the door. "Can I come in now?" The words are sarcastic, and Ian rolls his eyes in response.

"Yes, you can come in now, love. But close the door behind you."

"Whatever you say, duck," Amy replies, her voice sugar-coated with sarcastic sweetness.

Ian rolls his eyes again. "Hilarious, love."

Amy, who is slowly pushing the door closed, suddenly freezes. "Wait – why are we closing the door? Don't we want to get back out?"

"We're not going out the same way," Ian replies matter-of-factly. "And we wouldn't want anyone – namely our little guard friend – seeing the door wide open and walking in on us now, would we, _love_?" He winks at her and smirks.

Wisely, Amy decides to keep her mouth shut, but that doesn't stop her from shooting venomous looks over her shoulder as she gives the door one final shove.

"Now," Ian begins as the door clicks shut, "we must-"

"Ian," Amy interrupts, her voice keenly portraying her irritation, "keep it down."

A self-satisfied smile plays at the corners of Ian's mouth, and Amy feels the urge to wipe the smug look right off his face. Possibly with her mouth.

"I'm not stupid, Amy. The room is soundproof. Another good reason not to keep the door shut."

A vein in Amy's neck twitches, but she keep her composure. "I knew that. I was just testing you."

"Right."

The vault at the far side of the room emits a sudden sound, drawing both of their attention towards it.

"What was that?" Amy hisses vehemently, forgetting that she is no longer required to whisper.

"I'm not sure." Ian cocks his head to the side, and Amy can almost see the gears in his head turning.

The two keep their mouths shut, Ian relishing the silence and Amy wishing she is anywhere but here. All of a sudden a low buzzing sound catches Amy's ear, coming closer and closer, and he glances around wildly in alarm.

"Do you hear that?"

"Do I hear what?"

"That buzzing?"

"What buzzing?"

"You mean you don't hear it?"

"I think that's what I implied when I said 'What buzzing?'"

"But how can you not hear it? It's so loud!" Amy eyes Ian skeptically.

"You know, that's really getting on my nerves."

"I know." Amy pauses before a sudden realization crashes down upon her. "The buzzing – it's stopped!"

"Maybe it's got something to do with that vault…"Ian trails off

"I wonder what's inside this vault…." Amy rushes over to inspect

Ian's eyes widen as he realizes what is about to happen. Amy is running blindly towards the vault without anything to prevent her from colliding.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Fear flashes across Ian's face, and instantly he lunges towards Amy. "Amy! Watch out!"

But Amy is already too far ahead and doesn't hear Ian's warning above her own panicked cries. With what seems like a superhuman effort, Ian throws himself at Amy, knocking her over milliseconds after she has run into the front of the vault. They tumble to the ground and roll, Ian shielding Amy with his body.

_Boom._

A brilliant flash of yellow and orange instantaneously blinds them, and they turn their faces away from the light – and debris. Several large, haggard pieces of metal have been flung outwards and into the walls. Amy and Ian curl themselves into balls, shielding themselves as they wait for the worst to pass. There is a sizzling sound, and after a moment Ian cautiously raises his head to inspect the damage.

The explosion, despite first appearances, is not extreme. It has inflicted little damage, and only a small hole marks the epicenter of the explosion.

It was a warning.

This explosion was not meant to kill – it could have been so much worse – but it must have been a premonition, a test of some sort, something to say, "We are in control." Ian knows this strategy all too well.

Amy sits up, propping herself up on one arm, and gingerly touches her head. "Is it gone?"

Ian narrows his eyes. "Yes," he responds with concern. "Are you okay?" He touches her forehead.

"Yes, I am." Amy wipes her brow with a grimy gloved hand. "That was a close one.

Amy sits silently for a moment before a sudden realization dawns on her. Her eyes widen, and she turns to Ian. "You just saved my life."

Ian reaches up and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yes, well, it was a one-time thing." He glares at Amy. "But don't count on it ever happening again."

Amy smirks, and Ian looks away, directing his gaze towards Amy's shoes. His eyes sudden widen, and he turns back to Amy.

"How's Cara?" Amy asks with a questioning look.

"She's fine, well lovely actually" Ian replies

"Funny"

"What?"

"I thought you only used that word for me." Amy replies

"It was just once Amy, and besides, things are different now. You're with that boy, Joke or whatever his name is.."

"_Jake, _and no, we broke up." She says recalling the memory.

"You broke up? Why?"

"That's not your business"

"Well, what goes on with Cara and I has nothing to do with you, Amy. It's quite simple really, you're out of the picture." Ian replies coldly.

A small beep sounds in the silence, interrupting them, and Ian glances at his illuminated watch face. When he looks up, his features display a deadly seriousness.

"We have to move."

No more words are required – the graveness on his face is enough. They have wasted too much time. Five minutes may not seem like much, but in a situation such as this, it can mean the difference between life and death.

Amy pushes herself off the ground and gets to her feet, brushing off what she can from her pants. Ian steps towards the vault, but Amy calls him back.

"What if there's another bomb?"

Ian glances back at Amy. "There isn't."

"But how do you know?"

"I just do. Trust me." And the look on Ian's face is enough to keep Amy from asking anymore questions. Somehow Ian knows. Maybe it's his Lucian-sixth sense, maybe his inner cobra, but whatever the reason, Amy knows better than to question Ian. Somehow, Ian always knows.

They proceed to the front of the vault and stare through the gaping hole where the bomb was activated. Smoke is still sizzling, clouding the putrid air, but nothing is on the other side.

"Who puts a bomb in a vault, anyway?" Amy asks, giving Ian a questioning look.

"Someone who wants to intimidate us."

Amy glances back at the hole. "But it could have killed us!"

Ian raises an eyebrow. "They apparently didn't think so. They assume that we are skilled and smart enough to avoid these little setbacks." He eyes Amy accusingly. "Unfortunately for them, they didn't foresee the killer vault."

A small flush of red warms Amy's cheeks, and she has the grace to stare at the floor shamefacedly.

"You've acquired quite the presence in the Cahill world," Ian continues as he begins to fiddle with the vault's lock, "and I have a feeling Pierce is unaware of just how little experience you and your brother really have."

"Hey!" Amy counters defensively. "Dan and I know what we're doing! We just spent the past two years preparing for this."

"Maybe." Ian clicks open the first lock easily and turns back to Amy. "But have you spent your entire life in training? Did you learn how to avoid bombs and build booby traps when you were three?"

Amy stares down at her scuffed shoes.

"I didn't think so." Ian reaches for the second lock and discards the first. There are three locks, ones that require a simple combination, and an electronic one, which will require a bit more work.

Amy watches Ian curiously, marveling over the masterful skill with which he so easily manipulates them. This is Ian's part of the mission, and all Amy is required to do is watch. But she will soon be needed. Her marvelous knowledge will come into play. That is why they are working together. Ian's Lucian, code-cracking skills and Amy's knowledgeable mind are mandatory for the success of this endeavor. Not that it makes it anymore pleasant.

"How do you do that?" Amy inquires curiously as Ian pops the last lock off. "It's like a magic trick."

Ian smirks. "Lucian secret."

"Can you show me sometime?" Amy asks hopefully.

"Not a chance."

"Why not?"

Ian raises an eyebrow. "Well, first of all, you're not a Lucian. And secondly, you with a knowledge of breaking through locks? That would be like handing Pierce the world on a silver platter."

"Really." Amy eyes Ian skeptically. "But I thought you just said I wasn't 'good enough.'"

"No," Ian replies as he inspects the electronic security system presently demanding a code. "I was making it clear that two years of experience does not automatically make you capable of fighting Pierce." He doesn't look up. "But that doesn't mean you and your brother aren't talented."

"Well, obviously. How else would we have kicked your butt in the Clue hunt?"

Ian straightens, pulling himself up to his full sixteen-year-old height and glowers down at Amy. "Don't push it."

Amy swallows hard and takes a small step back. Ian may not be a Holt, but still, he's not a fellow Amy would particularly desire to trifle with.

Ian smiles, satisfied, and turns back to cracking the system's code.

"How are you gonna get through that?" Amy can't help his curiosity; the question is begging to be asked, no matter how stupid it makes her look.

"Elementary," Ian replies without taking his eyes off the screen that is demanding a password combination.

"Sure, how hard can it be?'Oh, look at me – I'm Ian, and I can break into a vault!' Big whoop."

Ian raises an eyebrow. "All right, then. If it's so easy, then why don't you do it?" He steps aside and beckons for Amy to take the lead.

The vault is large, a state-of-the-art model with a mixture of classical locks and modern electronic equipment. Bright blue lights blink at Amy, demanding an access code, one she has no idea how to attain. She gives Ian a sideways glance and notices the hidden challenge in his eyes. Tentatively, Amy puts her hand forward but pulls it back mere millimeters from the screen. It's not worth it. One wrong move could cost them everything.

"Okay, I admit it. I don't know how."

Amy winces as soon as the words are out, waiting for the "I told you so" that is sure to come, but surprisingly, it never does. She dares to open one eye and glances hesitantly at Ian.

"You finally ready to trust me?"

Amy scowls, her eyes narrowed into little slits. "Never, Cobra," she hisses, "but it looks like I don't have much of a choice now, do I?'

"I suppose not." Ian's reply is distant, as though he is fully aware of just how slim the chances are that Amy will ever trust him again.

"Why are you really here, Ian?" She needs to know the truth before they go any further. It is now or never.

"Well, I suppose 'Ian' is better than 'duck,'" Ian says wryly.

"Just answer the question," Amy snaps.

Ian raises his chin, a mixture of defiance and thoughtfulness, and his thick black hair falls onto his forehead, his eyes as unreadable as a sign written in Arabic. He purses his lips and looks down for a moment before squarely meeting Amy's gaze.

"I want to honor my sister"

The reply is direct, leaving no room for questions, but Amy is still not satisfied.

"And that's all?"

In that oh-so-familiar way, Ian cocks his head to the side, deeply pondering the question.

"I think my answer should be sufficient. My only family member is dead, and I will do anything to honor her, just as you would for your uncle and nanny." He pauses, carefully choosing his next words. "But if you must know, I have a few… scores to settle, a few wrongs to right." He shrugs carelessly. "I have my reasons, ones I don't think you are entitled to know about."

Amy's head nods slowly, deciding to accept Ian's cryptic answer.

"Now then," Ian interjects, "if we've successfully put aside our differences for the moment, then I believe we should get going."

Amy steps aside and makes room for Ian to step back in front of the screen. Ian swiftly replaces him and begins his work, pressing buttons so fast that Amy cannot keep track. She studies Ian's face, frozen in concentration. Who is this handsome teenager? A backstabber? A deceiver? Or are his motives more… noble than that? He wants to honor Natalie , that is plain to see, just as Amy longs for Fiske and Nellie to return, but what about these ulterior motives? Could they somehow be something to compensate for feelings of guilt? Does a Lucian even feel guilt or have a conscience for that matter?

A small beep goes off, and Ian smiles triumphantly. The dim blue glow becomes an emerald green, and the door slowly begins to hiss open. Ian's amber eyes flicker in the glowing light, and Amy squints in the sudden flash. Whatever the truth is, she knows only one thing: Ian Kabra is an enigma, a complete mystery, with more layers than even an onion. Without a doubt, there is more than meets the eye to Ian Kabra.

Amy's eyebrow raises, and Ian waves him forward, a smug smile plastered across his face.

"Your turn."

Biting his lip, Amy takes a hesitant step forward. It was Ian's job to crack the security codes, and now it is her turn to supply her knowledge. Anyone could have done it really.

But it has to be a Cahill.

Pushing past the door, Amy steps into the large vault. It is narrow, a claustrophobic's worst nightmare, but tall. Even Ian could stand straight in this rectangle box. He glances from side to side but can't see a thing.

"How am I supposed to see in here? It's pitch black."

"Here, take this." A hand reaches out through the door, barely visible in the dim light seeping in from outside.

Amy reaches out, but with his eyes still adjusting to the lighting, he miscalculates the distance and bumps the object in Ian's hand onto the floor.

"Oops."

"Amy!" Ian hisses. "That was our only flashlight!"

"Oops."

"Here – let me," he says, stepping through the door. "Where did it fall?"

"Over here, I think."

"Over where? I can't see you!"

"To the right."

"My right or your right?"

"My right. No, wait. Your right. No, no. It was counterclockwise right."

"What?"

"I have no idea. Just get on your knees and help me search."

"Fine. But if my pants get ruined, you're paying."

Amy falls to her knees and begins to feel the floor.

_Dirt, tile, something I don't want to know about._

She turns and suddenly, a crack splits the silence as two heads collide like a baseball bat connecting with a softball in a home-run hit.

"Oww!" their voices cry out simultaneously.

"That was my head!"

"What do you think your head hit?"

Amy rubs her sore temples carefully before a light bulb goes off in her head. "Wait a minute. No one's out there, right?"

"Right."

"So, it wouldn't hurt if we opened the door all the way, right?"

There is a painful silence before Ian finally responds. "Good point."

They both attempt to stand, colliding once again, much to their frustration. Ian rubs his arm protectively and pulls Amy to the side.

"Allow me."

She pulls the door open as wide as possible, and a flood of light instantly rushes into the vault. Amy blinks rapidly as her eyes adjust, and she quickly looks down, immediately spotting the tiny flashlight right by her foot.

"Found it!" she declares as he stoops down to pick it up.

"Perfect. Just when we don't need it anymore."

"I don't know about that," Amy responds. "It's still pretty dark in here."

The room outside the vault has little light, its only source being a dim florescent bulb, so there is not much to stream into the vault to begin with. Amy squints in the faint light and is finally able to make out the object on the other side.

"I can see it!" she exclaims.

"Good for you. Now what does it say?"

Amy shoots Ian a dirty look before proceeding forward. Shadows play across the object's surface, but she can still make out its faint outline.

"It's a chalice!" Amy declares. She takes a closer look and wrinkles her nose. "An ugly chalice."

Ian comes up beside Amy and inspects it. He picks it up and turns it in his hand. "Quite old – valuable in that respect – but definitely not up to par with the other objects we've acquired."

Ian gives Amy a sideways glance. "Bronze, I'd say. Definitely not top quality, but there must be a reason it's so important." He turns the chalice slowly in his hands, feeling all its cracks and etchings. "In remarkable shape for its age, though," he mumbles to himself.

"Anything else?" Amy asks hopefully.

"There are some etchings in the metal, but I can't make them out," Ian responds. "Here – give me the flashlight."

Amy hands it to him, and Ian flicks the switch on, illuminating the bronze chalice in a warm myriad of yellow light. The chalice glows, its ancient carvings all but coming to life.

"Look!" Amy breathes. "The symbols!"

Strange cryptographs and letters decorate the artifact. Some are recognizable; others are as alien to Amy as Chinese. They form a mesmerizing pattern, one that Amy knows has already been engraved into her mind.

"It looks like… several languages all meshed together," Ian observes.

Amy takes a closer look and realizes that she is right. Some of the characters resemble the Japanese that Amy encountered two years earlier, and others resemble mixtures of European alphabets, maybe even some Greek. Or is that alchemy?

"Do you have it?"

Amy nods, and Ian carefully places the chalice back on its exquisitely-crafted pedestal.

"Let's go."

Amy silently slips out the door with Ian close behind, who makes sure to shut it after them. Ian presses a few buttons and twists a few locks, erasing all signs of their presence, just as a sudden movement causes them both to freeze. The ground has buckled, emitting a small tremor, and a low thunder sounds.

Amy glances nervously at Ian. "I-I thought you said this room was soundproof."

Ian returns Amy's look, his eyes revealing a look of panic. "It is."

Their look exchanges unspoken words of fear. If sound has passed through those impenetrable walls, then what could possibly be going on outside?

"Those wretched Holts are probably bringing the whole museum down," Ian muses. "We need to get out of here before guards start scouring the place."

Amy's glance is still fearful. "How?"

Ian jerks his head towards the corner of the room. "The vent."

Amy's gaze wanders to the edge of the room. "You've got a screwdriver handy?"

"No, even better." Ian flashes Amy a grin. "Bobby pins."

"Well, that's a great improvement," Amy retorts with a roll of her eyes.

"Just watch." Ian steps forward, pulls out a small brown pin, and inserts it in the vent's closest screw. A few quick twists, and it pops right off in his hand. Swiftly, Ian moves on to the next and the next, forced onto his tiptoes to reach the very top ones. All screws are off within a minute, upon which Ian returns back to Amy. But she is not impressed.

"Why do you even _have _bobby pins?"

Ian's smirk instantly transforms into a scowl. "Because it's so much more convenient than a screwdriver. Now hurry up. We don't have all day." He glances nervously at his watch as Amy approaches him.

"Okay, I'm ready. Let's go." She eyes the bottom of the vent and rubs her hands together eagerly before making her first attempt. She reaches out, grabbing the edge, but her gloved palms slip, causing her to fall to the ground. She shoots Ian an embarrassed glance, but quickly gets to her feet, determined to give it another go. Swinging her arms, she crouches down low before giving himself a great surge of power and lunging for the vent. Her fingers slip again, and gravity pulls her to the ground once again.

"Need help?"

Sighing heavily, Amy gives Ian a despairing look. "I'm not as tall as you, okay?"

Ian smirks. "I know."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Absolutely."

Amy glares at him. "I hate you."

"I know."

"Fine, then," Amy surrenders. "Kill my pride, help me up."

Ian nods but raises a finger in warning. "But I _refuse _to carry you."

"Hey, we actually agree on something for once!"

"Frightening, isn't it?"

Amy gives Ian a questioning look. "So, how am I going to get up?"

Ian cringes but folds his hands together and places them under the vent like a booster. "Step up. And hurry – we don't have all day."

Cautiously, Amy approaches Ian and lifts her right foot onto Ian's hands, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady herself. Amy feels Ian's muscles tense, but he doesn't waver. Reaching up, Amy grabs the side of the vent and pulls up her other leg, accidently nicking Ian as she goes.

"Ow! You just kicked me in the eye!"

"Oops! Sorry," Amy replies with a smirk, not sounding very apologetic at all as she watches Ian struggle to hold his weight with a foot balancing on his head. After a moment, when she has decided that Ian has suffered enough, she pulls herself forward all the way into the vent. She turns around and peeks down at Ian, flashing him an infuriating grin.

Ian glares up at him from beneath furrowed eyebrows. "You'll pay for that, Cahill," he vows, launching himself easily into the vent.

Amy's smile disappears, and she shuffles to the side, making room for Ian, who lands precisely beside her.

"You are a royal pain, love."

"Takes one to know one."

A beep from Ian's watch interrupts their delightful conversation, and Ian instantly presses a few buttons to quiet it. "If my calculations are correct, then we should be making a right turn right about… now."

"Whoa."

"What?"

"That watch is freakishly accurate. My nose is almost touching the wall."

"You weren't watching where you were going?"

"No, my night vision just sucks."

"Perhaps I should take the lead," Ian offers.

"Be my guest," Amy retorts. "I've swallowed enough dust for the day."

They quickly shuffle to the side, and Ian once again resumes the lead.

"When was I 'in the picture' Ian?" Amy says recalling their previous conversation.

"After Korea, I.."

"You, what?"

"I was in unconditionally in love with you Amy Cahill, Do you know why I didn't come to Boston all those years ago?"

"Why?" she asks recalling the painful memory

"Because of my mother, I thought that, because I was her son you would never look at me like that, that I could never be someone you would like back that….I would always be a failure."

"Ian…I….."

"Forget it, Amy. And besides, it's just about time to make our escape."

"But, Ian…" Amy persists."

"I said **forget it!"**

Ian pauses momentarily and flicks a button on his watch, causing an eerie green glow to illuminate the cold, grey metal walls and their faces. The light makes Amy's pale face appear somewhat sickly, but it blends easily with her matching eyes. Ian's face, however, appears almost supernatural, and his eyes seem to glow, resembling a cat in the dark.

"Whoa, Ian. You look kinda freaky," Amy observes nervously.

A corner of Ian's mouth lifts, pulling it into a half-smile, giving him an almost demonic appearance as his eyes continue to glow unnaturally. "And you, love, look like you're suffering from air turbulence."

"Touché."

He glances back at his watch and clicks it off, once again submerging them in utter darkness, and Amy suddenly feels a strange pattering in her stomach, one easily resembling a butterfly's wing beat.

"Do you think they followed us?"

The conversation has finally turned back to work. Amy's voice is low, her question urgent.

In the dark, Ian lifts his chin and meets Amy's gaze as squarely as he can. "Possibly. But if they did, they are quite a ways behind, which is precisely why we need to keep moving. They can't catch up."

Amy nods wordlessly, and Ian returns to facing the front. They proceed in utter silence, just as before, both immersed in their own thoughts, lost in worlds of their own.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

The familiar pattern of knees pounding against metal fills Amy's ears, and she allows it to numb away all of her anxieties. He may have done this sort of thing many a time before, but no matter how many times he does it, it never gets any easier. No less is at stake. One slip-up could cost any one of them their lives, the lives of the ones they love. She trusts Ian although – what happened in Korea will never change – but she does know that they are all in the same boat

"I see light!" Amy declares joyfully.

"We're almost there."

She smiles at Ian as he pulls her out of the vent. Her feet touched tiled floor, and she notices that she is in a supply closet

"How the heck did we get here?"

"How should I know?"

"That's pathetic, Cobra" she mutters

He pins her to the wall

"What did you just call me?"

"Nothing, I mean-"Amy blushes profusely

He cuts her off, and suddenly his lips are on hers. Passion melting their bodies, Ian can feel fireworks exploding in his stomach. Cara and Jake, seem like a distant memory. He releases her and looks intently into her jade green eyes.

"Have I ever told you how lovely your eyes are?"

"I don't think you have, Mr Kabra" she smirks coyly.

"Well, Ms Cahill they are lovely" he kisses her neck "and so are you…"

"We really should get out of this closet shouldn't we?"

"Yes, I don't think I can stay here any longer."

They move out quickly and quietly. Looking behind them and running out. Thankfully, none of Pierce's goons are following them. They have completed the mission, successfully.

"Ian, what about Cara?"

_Oh, crap_

**A/n: Well the ending was kinda sad (*for Ian*) but I figured we needed some major amian fluff after the entire Flashpoint mess. **

**If you guys want to send me some more prompts or anything feel free to put some in the reviews or just PM me.**

**Thanks again guys! **


	3. Locks And Keys

**A/n: I apologize for the long time for the update, I've had a lot of things going on in school and I've been REALLY busy! But that's OK because the past is the past and it's a new chapter! **

**As requested by one of my reviewers, here is another mission fanfic about our favorite couple AMIAN! Thanks again for your prompt and your review!**

**Prompt: A mission fic where Ian teaches Amy how to pick a lock (Ian and Cara are still together)**

"I can't believe we're doing this."

The library smelled like rotting old people and mothballs and there was a fine layer of dust that covered every surface in the building. Light streamed through the Cahill mansion illuminating eager jade green eyes and bored amber ones.

"After all we've been through, you're still surprised?" She smirked and raised an eyebrow, a look Ian had become all too familiar with.

"I can't _believe_ we're doing this"

"Well, Ian you _did_ promise to teach me…" She pursed her lips and looked through the French windows, it was autumn, and the trees were displaying their colorful plumage. The cold October wind nipped at the birches.

A sigh

"Ok let's start simple, the basic mechanics are simple it involves a simple torque mechanism, when the bobby pin is inserted the pins in the lock align with the shear of the pin and a simple turning force that is, torque pops the lock-and voila…"

He inserted the bobby pin in the lock and popped it open

"I didn't know you were such a nerd!" She laughed and looked at Ian, who was looking intently at the lock.

He blushed then looked at Amy with a straight face

"I am not" He said coldly

His features softened and he took out another lock a bit complicated one, and held it out to Amy.

"Open this"

She intently started to pick at it with a bobby pin.

"Amy…"

"Hmm?" she asked not looking up from the lock.

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

She looked up at Ian

"How can I make Cara like me? I mean, I know she's my girlfriend but…"

"The great Ian Kabra taking love advice from me, I never thought I'd live to see the day" she smirked slightly.

He narrowed his eyes

"Just tell me what to do"

"Fine, you have to hold her hand"

She grabbed Ian's hand

"Look her in the eye, no, Ian not like that"

She stared intently at his features

They would analyze what happened next for days- because neither of them seemed to move. Amy still gazed intently at Ian and Ian stared wordlessly at Amy. Then she cupped his face and kissed him.

Ian forgot to breathe

The kiss was unexpected his mouth was soft against hers and his thumb rolled over the plane of her cheekbone.

Ian pulled away holding Amy by her shoulders.

"I-I'm sorry Amy but we can't" he whispered

"Why? I thought-" Amy looked at him with tears in her eyes.

"I love Cara, and I can't Amy, I just can't. I'm sorry" his voice was still low and soft.

An audible crack filled Amy's ears, her stomach plummeted and her eyes widened.

"Its fine Ian, I understand" she got up and set the lock on the table.

"Thank you Amy"

She walked out of the library and closed the door. She broke down crying before she even reached the door of her room. He loved Cara and the only thing she could do was

_Break. _

**A/n: In my story Amy broke up with Jake for reasons unknown. I know this is more Carian than Amian but I just couldn't take the fact that Ian would cheat. It doesn't seem right. Anyways as always 10 more reviews for another chapter and prompt me if you have any ideas! **


	4. Only You

**A/n: And I'm backkkk!**

**Prompt: Imagine that your OTP were good friends for several years, and then Person A goes away for some time (on work, vacation, school, etcetera), and when they return, they seem completely different. Person B is utterly baffled by this, and they try to understand what on earth is going on and what has happened to Person A.**

**Amy and Ian because obviously why not!**

Amy opened the door and paused abruptly; someone was standing in the kitchen. It took a few minutes for her mind to register that it was him, he was back, and by that time he'd turned around and was giving her a strange look.

"Hey," she said, coming in and closing the door behind her. She observed that he was halfway through pouring himself whiskey from the bottle she kept hidden behind the cereal boxes. She frowned. "I didn't think you were getting in until tomorrow."

Ian shrugged. "I got an earlier flight," he said, screwing the cap back on the bottle and then turning to her completely. He held out one hand to her and as soon as his fingers were on the cuff of her sweater, he was clawing at her arm, pulling her in to his arms and holding her tight against his chest. She melded into him, the way she always did, and she heard and felt him sigh so heavily it was as if someone had died and simply holding her was the greatest comfort he could have asked for. It worried her; she placed her hands on his hips and snaked them around his waist and felt for his energy. His body was hard as rock, as it always was, but there was something about the way he held her and the way he rolled his chin over her shoulder and the way he…something was wrong, something had happened.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

Ian tensed and relaxed, though he didn't let her go, he continued to hold her against him as though Hell were coming to take her away. She waited for an answer, and when it didn't come, she prepped herself to separate from him and find out what was the matter. But she didn't have to.

"I just…" he trailed out , and sucked in a breath and let it out in a sigh. "This job is a real bloody pain sometimes."

Amy smiled sadly; he didn't have to tell her. She knew it all too well.

"Did something happen?"

Ian let her go, his fingertips trailing over her arm, as though reluctant to let her go. He took the whiskey he poured himself off the counter and stared down into it, not looking at her. "Something always happens."

Amy watched him take a long sip and swallow without making his usual face. She hadn't seen him in a state like this since…since Natalie. She observed the circles under his eyes; he hadn't slept at all.

"Did you try those pills the doctor gave you?" she asked.

Ian nodded. "Yeah, but they didn't help," he set the glass down and rubbed his face with one hand, his other hand on her hip. "You know there's only one place I can sleep, love."

He lifted his amber eyes to her green and she greeted him with a sad little smile; she knew that he meant it both endearingly and truthfully, but it hurt her that there was truth in the statement. In a way, she wished it wasn't the case at all. It wasn't good for him.

"Come on," she said, pulling on his sleeve with her finger and thumb, walking towards the hallway. "You look exhausted."

She led the way and he followed behind her, silently, though looming with all the presence of a wandering colossus. There was such weirdness in his air when they went into the bedroom, shrouded in cool grey light from the rainy afternoon outside the windows. She heard him damn near groan out loud at the sight of her messily made king-size bed; she rounded to the far side and slipped off her sweater and her trousers before pulling back the duvet and crawling onto her side. She watched him peel off his cashmere sweater and take his scarf off from around his neck, placing it on the bedside table as he kicked off his loafers and pulled off his trousers, till he stood there in nothing but his slate grey T-shirt and black boxers. She smiled at him as he got into bed beside her, facing her, his eyelids already starting to close as soon as he pulled the pillow up against his head.

She looked at him quietly as he closed his eyes, and his lips parted and his thick black eyelashes rested peacefully on his cheekbones. He was stubbly, but she always liked him with a little bit of stubble, it suited him, and the light that made his tan skin glow like brushed silver. He was such an intimidating man, or at least he was to those who didn't know him; watching people react to him was always a lot of fun, for her and others in the Cahill Command Center alike. But like this he was calm and peaceful, and beautiful, and it hadn't occurred to her how much she really did miss him until that moment, right there, and how when looking at him asleep next to her, she was suddenly overcome with such an incredible feeling of home.

Sighing just a little, she reached forward and brushed the knuckles of his hand with her fingertip. "Tell me what happened," she whispered.

After a moment he made a noise in his throat, a telltale sign he was so close to sleep but just on the cusp. "I just wanted to come home to you, love" he said. "That was all I wanted."

She frowned a little as she watched his breath steady; he was asleep, already fast asleep, just like that…and as she watched him and listened to him breathe, and as she felt herself lulled by his presence enough to close her eyes, she couldn't help but think of how his last words sounded less like an endearment and more like a confession.


End file.
